Nightmares by the Dozen
by Wassupdude
Summary: Each year brings its lot of nightmares for Himura Kenshin. Only a dozen of them stand out, along with one recurring theme.
1. i

i.

Once he puts the brush down, the lightest of frowns tugs at his features. He takes in the choppy characters jotted down, all sharp angles and jagged lines. He takes a peek at Kaoru's handwriting, a bit dismayed at how effortlessly the ink glides over the paper. Her kanji are smooth slopes flowing into gentle curves, akin to dark sea waves.

She caresses the tip of her brush against the inkstone, carefully wringing the excess water by pressing the nib against the sides of the stone. Once she looks up, she realizes how he seems much more interested in her letter than his own.

Kaoru leans over in a way that has the tip of his knee pressing even more against her thigh. They are sitting close, _seiza_ -style, and the heat of her legs against his aching joint is both a relief and a comfort. It feels simply wonderful to be able to sit close to her in silence.

Once she's done analyzing his letter, he explains a bit ruefully: "This one was never good at calligraphy, that one wasn't."

Kaoru laughs. "Kenshin! Don't worry about it. My own penmanship isn't all that great."

He crossed his arms, definitely amused and disbelieving. "This one finds it hard to believe, Miss Kaoru."

"It's true, though! My handwriting isn't all that bad, but compared to my father's, or even to my mother's, it's still pretty rough."

He loves hearing more about Kaoru and her childhood, despite his reluctance to mention the past. It's both a desire to learn more about the woman by his side and about the past that shaped her into who she is, shaped her into someone willing to challenge Battousai himself on her own and offer four perfect strangers a home.

"Besides," Kaoru continues, gesticulating with her hands, "it was pretty boring to sit down for hours doing nothing but drawing the same characters over and over until the teacher was satisfied. With all my swordsmanship training, I never had much time to practice my calligraphy anyway. I imagine it was the same for you."

He smiles, for her words bring back fond memories of his training with his master. Well, fond now, but he recalls with great accuracy his younger self's frustration. "Mostly. As punishment, Master used to task this one with the chore of copying down the books he owned and throwing away the results if they weren't to his liking. One wasn't allowed to practice with the sword until Master was satisfied. Of course, his standards have always been…"

"Insane?"

Kenshin chuckles and nods. "That would be one word for it."

There is a comfortable lull in their conversation as Kaoru grinds the inkstick against the inkstone, carefully tipping water into it to dilute the ink. She draws a few lines on a draft paper to judge the quality of the ink she prepared and adjusts it.

Once she's done, he picks his brush again and struggles to pen the slippery characters that still elude him. He knows their shapes by heart, but only has a basic idea of the order his strokes should be in. It is when he reaches a honest-to-God impossible kanji, having tried multiple times to correctly spell it out on the draft paper, that Kaoru jots down the character next to his as an example.

Her movement are deliberately slow and calculated, flicks of her wrist elongating the strokes more than they ought to. As he tries to reproduce the lines of ink, failing more than once and feeling frustration bud in his chest, reminiscent of his youthful days and his master's idea of teaching calligraphy to a boy of ten, Kaoru sets down her brush and extends her arm over his, right hand hovering above his.

"Miss Kaoru?" he questions, aware of her intention and giving her the small confirmation she awaits. Her hand descends, fingers curling around his tight enough to direct the brush, but loose enough for him to break the hold.

He doesn't want to.

She guides their joined hands in controlled strokes and the motion forces her palm flush against the back of his hand. The heat of her skin is wonderful and the weight of her hand is pleasingly intimate. To reach over, Kaoru shifts closer against him so that half their thighs are touching. Her arm is extended against his chest, shoulder right under his chin, and each of his breath fans against the side of her face. The whole atmosphere is permeated with a closeness he relishes.

"I, um." A flush creeps over Kaoru's cheeks and she avoids looking at him as another breath ghosts against her skin: the overall effect is very lovely and he only keeps breathing to feel the heat of her skin bounce against his face.

"I-I don't mind helping you with calligraphy, if you want. It's, uh, it's a bit like swordsmanship, right?" She turns to face him, her hand letting go of his, and a slow smile draws on her lips and he stops breathing, disappointment in his chest and bewilderment etched in his features. There is gentleness and longing and anticipation in her eyes, but it is the glow of affection that spreads on Kaoru's face that has his chest tightening.

It is a beautiful sensation, guilt and longing and elation all at once, and all he can do is answer her smile in kind and offer softly: "This one would greatly appreciate it, that one does, Miss Kaoru."

The extra two words at the end of his sentence are unnecessary, but he likes how the syllables caress his lips and form the shape of her name: the atmosphere is even more intimate, a damp bubble where only the two of them exist and sneaky feelings surface, boiling under the cover of their skin.

"All right," Kaoru says while her face lights up with happiness. She reaches for his right again, this time shifting so that they are touching from hips to knees, and he picks up the brush once more, waiting for her careful guidance and basking in her touch.

They dip the nib in the ink and wring out the excess water, except the strokes they paint are still large and blurry, little puddles of black that the paper cannot completely absorb.

"Kenshin." Kaoru frowns, pulling back. "It's dripping."

He wonders as well at the oddity when he feels a drip of warmth against his hakama. His eyes widen as he takes the splash of red against the white of his pants.

Kaoru turns her face to his and panic seizes him when his eyes focus on the large bleeding gap of a cross-shaped wound. Blood oozes in thick never-ending rivulets and bubbles which trickle down her chin. "It's dripping, Kenshin," Kaoru complains, except her eyes, shades of stormy seas, are dropping in fatigue and she sags against him.

"Miss Kaoru!" He presses the material of his sleeve against her cheek in hopes of stopping the blood flow and he forcefully pushes his fear back down. He knows not how Miss Kaoru was injured while right by his side, but for now, her wound is what worries him the most.

He curls his free arm around her shoulder to shift her against his chest when he feels his clothes being drenched in warm liquid. He looks down and his heart stops: a sword is shoved all the way to the hilt in Kaoru's chest.

"No! Miss Kaoru, no, not again, no!" His hand hovers against the leather hilt but he cannot do anything but watch as the life seeps from Kaoru's body, drop by drop, at an alarming rate.

There is ice in his limbs and he shakes as the grief and bile rise in his throat once more. Gone deadly cold, he tries to stave off the chill by pressing Kaoru closer to his chest, but it's useless. His breath is labored and shaky and he doesn't trust his voice, battling against the assault of tears. "Miss Kaoru… _Kaoru_ …" He presses his chin to the top of her head.

"Kenshin?" she slurs, half-dead: oh God, half- _dead_ , she's _dying_. He raises his head to look at her and her next words end him: "Why did you kill me?"

Then she sags, lifeless, and he shouts her name in desperation, cries her name as loud as he can between harsh silent sobs, brokenly whispers " _Kaoru_ " as he presses his cheek against her hair. His chest trembles in grief as Kenshin holds yet again the body of the woman he loved and killed.

 _A/N: i am kenkao trash: viva the angst_


	2. ii

ii.

Kaoru sat on the porch nearby, rubbing the back of her hand with a frown and muttering under her breath about something.

"Ah, Miss Kaoru, is there something wrong?"

She shot him a surprised look and quickly folded her hands on her thighs, a bit sheepish, and a calming smile on her face. Kenshin recognized some of his own placating mannerisms in her reaction, and he knew not whether he was amused or worried that he had rubbed off on her so much.

"It's nothing, really. I just hurt my hand but I don't remember how or when. Does that ever happen to you?"

Kenshin stood and went over her, leaning to catch a better look at this wound she mentioned while replying distractedly, "It did." He picked her hand up and even though she reflexively pulled back, the muscles of her forearm and fingers tightening under her skin, she left her hand in his care.

It was quite cold compared to his, but he had been washing the dishes for a while, explaining the contrast of warmth. With his fingers flattened against the smoothness of her palm and his thumbs framing the sides of her hand, he could feel the rounded swell of her calluses at the base of her fingers. All that was missing to turn this into a much more meaningful and intimate moment was for her to squeeze her fingers around his.

All thoughts of intimacy fled his mind when he finally noticed the wound: a pinkish halo surrounded two close small dots which resembled beauty spots. If anything, it felt similar to…

Kenshin tightened his hold over her hand. "Miss Kaoru, this one believes it may be a bite mark."

"Huh?" She slipped her hand out of his to bring it closer to her face and study the mark. Squinting, she shrugged thereafter. "Ah, it's true! But I don't know what could have bit me: I'd have noticed, right?"

"Indeed. However, this one believes that Miss Megumi should tend to it when possible, that she should."

Kaoru yawned and covered her mouth with the injured hand. The wound seemed to glare back right at him. "All right you worrywart, I'll go see her first thing tomorrow morning. It's way too late to go now."

Kenshin smiled his agreement, despite the fact he would rather have had her injury checked out soon. However, those kinds of bites were relatively harmless, annoyingly painful at the very worst. Unable to do more, he squatted in front of the dishes again and bid Kaoru a goodnight when she left.

"Kenshin!"

He lifted his head to see Kaoru standing across once more, one hand on the rough frame of a wooden pillar. The other was covered by the end of her yellow sleeve, fisted underneath the cloth. Against the white paper rice and the inky night gloom, Kaoru stood out in her yellow attire, positively bright and endearing.

"Yes, Miss Kaoru?"

"Ah! There's something you have to see," she answered, the high pitch of her tone, the shifting of her weight, and the crease around her eyes betraying her nervousness and worry.

"Oro?"

"It won't take long, I promise. Come _on_!" Kaoru shifted her hips then came over, tugging at his sleeve impatiently, pulling him up. He awkwardly rose to his feet with a silent groan, the joints of his knees hissing in pain at the motion: he could feel very well all those hours he spent squatting during the day finally catching up to his poor tendons. He wasn't given time to adjust as Kaoru dragged him away as soon as he was on his feet

"Is there something wrong, Miss Kaoru?"

"Yes. No! Argh, I don't know! That's why you have to see for yourself," she replied a bit loudly. He allowed the smile threatening to break on his face to bloom at the distracted manner she kept tugging at his sleeve despite the fact he was only a footstep behind her. It reminded him of a child tugging at their parents' clothes for their attention, and it was endearing since she was eagerly bouncing all the way to wherever she was dragging him while he padded silently behind her.

A frown took over his expression once he realized they were headed to her room. A bit warily, he asked, "Miss Kaoru?"

Kaoru ignored him and opened the shōji of her room, all but pushing him inside to the front of her open closet. She then slid close behind him: one hand braced on his shoulders as she rose on the tip of her toes to peek over the width of his shoulders, her chin brushing his kimono. Her breath bounced against the side of his neck, a few of her hair caressing the bare skin.

Kenshin forced his muscles to relax at her proximity, especially once she slung her free hand over his shoulder to point at her closet, forcing more of her weight against his back. While they were not touching, except for the hand braced on his shoulder, it was almost enough to throw him off. The smell of freshly washed skin and soap enveloped him, and as a swordsman, he was sharply aware of his other senses, saturated with _Kaoru._

"There's something in my closet," she finally said, and her breath against his neck was a painfully pleasant sensation. He had to force an "Oro?" and blink a few times to tear his mind away from the feel of her hand flat against his shoulders and the warmth that seeped from her body lightly brushing his back.

A bit surprised, Kenshin threw her an uncertain look. The glare he received in answer told him to not question her, so he obeyed her demand, squatting in front of Kaoru's closet, wary of what he may find inside. As Kaoru hovered over him, her hands flat on his shoulders, their warmth seeping through the cloth and her thumbs brushing a bit of exposed skin, to distribute her weight, Kenshin stared at the thick blankets inside the closet, not really seeing what Kaoru wished him to notice.

"Ah, Kenshin! It's there, look, right here!" Kaoru pointed at the crease between two folded blankets and Kenshin followed the motion as it briefly bared her white wrist, eyes burning in his memory the details of the crisscross of skin tissue, the smooth curl of her fingers, her rounded uneven thumbnail and her straight forefinger pointed at…

A dead mukade centipede.

 _A sign of misfortune_.

"Oro?"

"Is it dead?"

"Ah, it seems so, that it is."

Kaoru scrunched up her nose in disgust, backing away to put him as a barrier between her and the creature. "But what's it doing _here_?"

Shaking his head and smiling reassuringly, Kenshin raised his hands in a placating manner. "Ah, it may have wandered here in search for a warm place."

Kaoru huffed and crossed her arms with a pout, still eyeing distastefully the nuisance in her blankets. "Well, no thank you! I'm already knee-deep in trouble trying to deal with one former wanderer and mukades are not, nor will they ever be, welcome." She shivered. "Ugh, gross."

Kenshin smiled at her words, especially at her affirmation that he was a wanderer no more, feeling warmth spread from the very center of his chest all the way to his fingertips. It was amazing how such simple words from Kaoru could lift his spirits so: he felt welcomed and cherished and it filled him with a feeling of _right_.

Careful not to come into direct contact with the insect, he carefully disposed of it by throwing boiling water on the corpse and then throwing it away from the Kamiya compound to avoid the inevitable rush of ants attracted by the scent of the dead body. Kaoru trailed closely behind him the whole time to ensure that the centipede was truly gone.

"If one thing's for sure," she affirmed on their way back to her room, a smile on her face, but disgruntlement in her eyes, "it's that those blankets are getting washed tomorrow."

"Ah, does Miss Kaoru need them any time soon?"

"Well, I was hoping to give you a few since it's gotten pretty cold at night recently…"

He turned to face her with a smile that reflected the warmth he felt in his chest, one that widened further at the way she averted her eyes to stare at a wall with a "hmph!" Her chin was proudly jutting out and she was holding herself as if she didn't think twice of her offer, but the red dusted across her nose and cheeks was a wonderful giveaway. Kaoru had never been good at lying or hiding what she felt, and he relished in her open honest personality: he would never trade it for anything in the world.

"This one appreciates the gesture, that one does, Miss Kaoru." He frowned briefly, wondering why the sentence sounded so familiar, a dreaded sensation of déjà vu, but decided to study the feeling when Kaoru's smile wasn't making his heart stutter in his chest like he was a little boy and not a grown mature man.

Despite all, Kenshin had a foreboding feeling: the discovery of the centipede, its meaning, and an ominous presentiment, were too coincidental. "Miss Kaoru?" he asked as they stood in the doorway of her room, making his voice as soothing and calm as he could despite the nagging sensation in his guts. "Could it be that Miss Kaoru was bitten by the mukade, that she was?"

" _What?_ No way! I was just looking for spare blankets and when I found that _thing_ there I ra― Uh, I mean, I came to get you. Nobody could pay me enough to touch that thing, much less willingly get close to it." The vehemence in her voice as she angrily crossed her arms reassured him somehow, but Kenshin's mind could not help but wonder at the cause of her injury.

Kaoru tugged at his sleeve to catch his attention once more. "Kenshin?"

At the worried hitch of her voice, he smiled, comforting. "Yes, Miss Kaoru?"

"You don't think…" She leaned closer, her breath puffing warmly against his face despite the distance. "You don't think there are any more of those, right?"

"There are none, Miss Kaoru. Mukades are rare in city areas and they are lone insects, that they are. Miss Kaoru is safe, that she is."

"Oh. Of course!" Kaoru smiled, bright and confident. She stood straight up. "Thank you, Kenshin. Goodnight." She waved at him and the gesture had him chuckling: it was quite childish, but definitely _Kaoru._ He waved in return.

"Goodnight, Miss Kaoru."

After his answer, she closed the shōji, off to sleep. Kenshin, for his part, did not get a wink of sleep that night: not that it was odd, but since his meeting with Kaoru, he had reconciliated with a somewhat sane sleep schedule. However, his mind was still preoccupied with the bite wound on her hand. Promising that the next day, as soon as she woke up, he would bring Kaoru to Megumi's, he still paused in front of her room many times that night: he was tempted to enter and see for himself if she was well, but could not bring himself to disturb her if she was asleep.

When morning came, Kaoru did not come out of her room. The nagging foreboding in his guts overrode his reluctance to barge in unexpectedly, and Kenshin opened the shōji: she was in her bed, face bone-white, her hair a puddle of ink around her. Her injured hand was lying by her side, the once pinkish skin swollen an angry red, sign of inflammation and, as Kenshin had suspected, poisoning.

He whispered her name, kneeling by her side to look her over. During his assessment, he allowed himself to brush the skin of her fingers: they were deadly-cold.

Ice settling in his vein once more (once _more?_ ), he _knew_ what had happened, a feeling of dread flooding his body. His own fingers shook as he pressed them to her neck more firmly than he had to.

No pulse. No, no, _no_. He lowered his head against her chest, too worried to consider the impropriety of the gesture. Pushing his ear to where her heart was, he closed his eyes and tried to shut out the thudding of his own to focus on _her_ heartbeat. His hand tightened around hers, the other fisting in the beddings as it supported his weight.

But no matter how long he waited or how hard he focused, he couldn't hear her heartbeat. "Miss Kaoru!" he called, voice shaky and starting to thicken with grief, hunched once again over the corpse of the woman he loved.

She never answered.

* * *

 _A/N: I wanted to finish with: "But nobody came" to reference Undertale, but it didn't make sense :P_

 _If it wasn't clear (which I'm pretty sure it isn't), Kaoru was bit by a poisonous insect. The reason Kenshin was so suspicious is because mukades (does it even take an 's'), a certain type of centipedes, are a sign of misfortune. Or so I think, I'm not too sure about that one._

 _Eh, anyway, it's not as strong as the first chapter, but when is it ever?_


	3. iii

iii.

In the midst of the night, the skies covered by thick gray clouds illuminated by the rare flashes of thunder, he can make out the sign of the Oguni clinic fairly well. His vision adapting to the darkness is one of the few traits he developed back in the war which Kenshin considers useful in this Meiji era.

This time, he's not here to track down criminals, to lend a helping hand to the police or to prevent a friend from creating a true false government army: he's only come to fetch Kaoru home.

He knocks on the door, waiting patiently for someone to open up. He hears the faint murmur of a discussion in the back and the glow of lit candles projects a dim yellow light. The shadows underneath the door grow longer and thicker, proof that a source of light is nearby, and Kenshin hears the breathing of doctor Gensai and the creak of wood before the old man fills the doorway, his shoulders held tight in fatigue.

A thin smile spreads on the man's lips and he allows Kenshin inside. "Ah, it is nice to see you, young man," he says under a breath while he closes the door behind him. Kenshin bows slightly his head in acknowledgment, speaking softly to not disturb those inside.

"How are you, doctor?"

"Eh, these old bones have seen better days, they did." The old doctor leads Kenshin to the end of a long hallway, turning right and sliding open a shōji to peek inside the room. He turns back to Kenshin with a knowing expression, brows creased and an almost smirk on his lips: "You wouldn't happen to be looking for little Kaoru, would you?"

"Yes. It is quite late and this one thought to accompany Miss Kaoru home, that one did." Yahiko had come a few minutes earlier to tell him that their work was done at the Oguni clinic and that Kaoru would be coming home soon. As soon as the boy was fast asleep, his snores filling the quiet night, Kenshin had left.

Gensai scoffs. "Quite late indeed. It's two in the morning and you should be sleeping, young man. Follow little Kaoru's example."

Opening the shōji all the way, the doctor motions for Kenshin to come in. The room is an office of some sorts, filled with scrolls of bandages, entire sections of wall hidden behind shelves and volumes thick like his head, a candle illuminating a corner. However, what catches Kenshin's eyes is the tired form of Kaoru, her upper body thrown over a desk right by the shōji.

"Thank you, doctor. This one will be sure to follow your advice, that one will," he says softly, facing the doctor. The man catches the dismissal in his voice and waves nonchalantly, leaving the two alone.

Kenshin approaches Kaoru's still form and crouches by her side. He allows himself a brief moment to take in the tranquil way she sleeps: her arms are crossed over the desk, her cheek pillowed on her forearms, causing the skin on her face to slightly bulge upward. Because her cheeks are squished, Kaoru's lips are parted in a slight moue, a few strands of hair stuck on them. Her long ponytail spills overhead, an inky backdrop making Kaoru's skin an unhealthy pale shade in contrast. As such, the dark hollow around her eyes are more pronounced, speaking of her fatigue.

It must not be a comfortable position, for Kenshin can make out the ridges of her spine underneath the skin of her neck. Hunched over the desk, her back is curved unnaturally at shoulder level so she can rest her head on her arms. That sleep finds her despite her sitting position tells Kenshin everything he needs to know: Kaoru is completely exhausted.

He would know: sitting up is not meant for a deep sleep, but for a quick rest.

Slowly brushing her hair behind her ear with the barest of touch, Kenshin curls a hand around her shoulder. He shakes her slightly to rouse her.

"Miss Kaoru? Miss Kaoru, it's time to wake up," he calls, each time speaking a little louder. Kaoru makes a sound in the back of her throat, a mix of a groan and a tired moan, and shifts away from him. She moves to hide her face completely in her arms, her hair spilling over her elbows and baring the long curve of her neck.

A fond smile finds its way to Kenshin's lips when Kaoru mumbles, "Let me sleep." He presses a hand just above the spot between her shoulder blades, rubbing her back while still calling out to her. It's a gesture picked up from mothers carrying their children and rocking them, a hand soothing their anger or tears until they fell asleep. As far as Kenshin gathers, it is a calming sweet gesture.

He only hopes it won't coerce Kaoru into an even deeper sleep.

The taut fabric of her kimono is warm and heavy against his fingers, the frayed threads catching on the cracks and calluses of his skin. His palm is flat against her spine and despite the layers, he can feel each bump and dimple. Her breathing is steady and deep, calm and reassuring.

So close, he can smell a bit of Kaoru's perfume: flowery and very faint. It brings another smile to his face and warms his chest: Kaoru and other people may call the girl tomboyish and unrefined, yet she proudly displays her large silk ribbons and her colorful and bright (albeit very restricted) collection of kimono or she adds a small dab of perfume to her clothes. The bright smile and the extra glint in her eyes whenever he compliments her choices are his preferred rewards (accompanied, if he is lucky, with a slight blush).

It's a bit selfish to admit so, but Kenshin rather likes the idea that only he notices and praises those small feminine details. It makes him feel like his opinion matters to Kaoru more than anyone else's, especially since he is always the first one she goes to whenever she makes a change in her appearance. While he is not up-to-date with the latest trend, and despite how in love with fashion Kaoru is, Kenshin is always surprised by the bloom of affection in his chest whenever she makes a small change of dress, whether it is a switch of her obi or ribbon, to follow his suggestions. That she is so dearly considerate of his humble opinion fills him with a great fondness and affection for the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin style.

Finally, despite numerous incoherent replies and to make the sound of his voice stop, Kaoru faces him once more, an eye cracked open. "Ken'in?" she slurs, pronouncing the syllables of his names sleepily.

He stills his hand between her shoulders, letting his thumb rub half-circles instead. "Miss Kaoru, it's time to go home, that it is."

Kaoru shakes her head and snuggles against her sleeves. She makes an exasperated sigh of denial and closes her eyes once more. "Let me sleep," she parrots in the end. Her breathing is now irregular but deep, and Kenshin knows she is sinking into sleep once more.

Deciding that to wake her completely would just be a useless battle (as a swordsman, he ought to know if a fight is worth the effort or not, and Kaoru's stubborn side is a mighty opponent he does not dare defy), Kenshin leans over.

"This one is sorry, Miss Kaoru, but this is for your own good, that it is."

With that, he wraps an arm around her shoulders, the other supporting her weight under her knees, and drags her to his chest, slowly rising with the motion to distribute the new weight. He leans back a bit so that her head rolls against his shoulder.

A frown takes over Kaoru's blank expression and she wiggles a bit in his arms into a more comfortable position: her fingers twist in the edge of his kimono, the back of one hand pressing against a pectoral. She's slightly heavier than expected. Of course, last time they had been in this position, Kaoru had just fainted from exhaustion after chasing Gohei around. She had been long limbs and a thin body, a result of living alone for six months.

Eating her own cooking.

It is a touchy subject and it is extremely hazardous to bring it up, but it's not much of a surprise, as the girl had lacked any feminine role model and Kenshin doubted Kaoru had found much pleasure in tasks like cooking, sewing or calligraphy when compared to swordsmanship. He acknowledges that Kaoru's skills in the kitchen, besides to prepare tea, are atrocious: her meals would always end up overcooked or undercooked, too salty or too bland, and would smell strongly of charred food. As such, Kaoru would never finish eating her own meals, so it had been no wonder to find her gaining weight ever since his arrival as he took over the kitchen.

Here she is a healthy heavy weight in his arms six months later. Her body traces a river of heat where it touches his, the feel of her weight, the pulse thrumming against his fingers, and the smell of perfume close to his nose making him want to hold her tighter. With a shake of his head to banish the thought, quite inappropriate to entertain while Kaoru is asleep in his arms, he hefts her a bit higher until her head is pillowed in the hollow of his shoulders, just below the bone.

Kenshin leaves the Oguni clinic and heads back to the Kamiya compound, completely silent. The walk is a bit long, his arms burn by the time he arrives, and the whole experience reminds him of the time he had once carried Tomoe over to the Imperialists' hideout after she had fainted.

Of course, back then, he had been fifteen and had yet to hit his prime physically, so carrying her had been much easier too.

Nevertheless, the ride is fun, a fond smile drawn on his lips and affection glinting in his irises as he eyes the sleeping woman, for Kaoru is a very entertaining sleeper: mumbling incoherent syllables, nonsensical words, humming a bit, lips parted and drool accumulating in the corner of her mouth. She wiggles a few times to find a more comfortable spot, not that there is much space for her to move in his arms, grunting in displeasure when her new position does not suit her, and even squishes her face against his shoulders as if Kenshin was a pillow.

It's a bit childlike, but he does not mind. A few of Kaoru's many endearing qualities are her never-ending optimism and energy, reminiscent of young children buzzing around. To see her so unguarded is a rarity that Kenshin ensures to burn in his memories, keeping the imprint of her body in the deepest recess of his mind as a souvenir to banish other dark thoughts which haunt him these days.

Once he arrives back home (and how sweet is the word on his lips, sweet like days of peace or the woman in his arms), Kenshin heads to Kaoru's room, struggling to unroll her futon with both hands occupied. Then he puts her down, carefully prying her fingers from where they tangle in the fabric of his clothes. Despite being asleep, or thanks to it, Kaoru's death grip tightens even more. He somehow manages to make her let go, stealing a moment to relish in the feeling of her warm hands surrounded by his.

Kaoru shifts to lie on her side, curling her arms to her chest in a gesture that signifies she is cold, so Kenshin covers her with a blanket: it's the least he can do to secure her comfort, for he refuses to wake her just so she can change clothes.

Yet, the image of Kaoru peacefully lost to slumber does not reassure him like it ought to: Kenshin feels a bit uneasy to see her so still and silent. It reminds him of the bloody Kyoto nights, streets blanketed by a mass of unmoving dead bodies.

Frowning at the rise of such violent thoughts, which had not happened since he returned from his battle with Shishio, Kenshin cannot help the feeling of unease in his guts: convincing himself to watch over Kaoru until she stirs, he crosses his legs and curls the tip of her long hair around his fingers absentmindedly.

For the past two days, he had had a horrible feeling. His sleep had been fitful, full of anxiety and horror. Kenshin had woken up with exhaustion wearing down both mind and body, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Sano. However, his foreboding had been justified: just like his dreams of Kyoto and the Shinsengumi had foreshadowed, a few months ago, the appearance of Shishio, the nightmares of those two last nights had also announced the return of another figure from the past.

Enishi.

Whatwith his attacks on the Akabeko, on the Maekawa dojo, and against Chief Uramura as well as his threat on the Kamiya dojo, and given Enishi's threat to his close ones, Kenshin had been on edge. The claim that he would suffer had been worrisome, for what better way to do so than to harm the pillars of his newly found peace: his allies, his friends, and Kaoru.

The feeling that she had been somehow involved in his nightmares sickens him. He had napped earlier and woken up shaken to the heart, images of Kaoru walking in a hell of decaying corpses on a path made out of the bones of the people he murdered forever branded behind his eyelids. When she had turned around, it had been a blank-faced Tomoe greeting him, the memory of her scowl frozen in his chest. In reaction, Kenshin had shut himself away from others.

After the retelling of his and Tomoe's tragedy, he had gone straight to sleep, unable to face anyone, much less Kaoru, mind swirling with dark thoughts. He had wondered what kind of expression he would have found on her face: pity, sympathy, anger, horror, fear or even contempt. No matter, he just couldn't face her now, not with the ghosts of his past resurging and threatening his very own peace of mind and sanity.

Here, sitting cross-legged near a blank-faced Kaoru, her face drained of any emotion in peaceful slumber, the fears burning in his heart are quieted. There is no fear or anger, no horror or sickening foreboding flooding in his body, only the silent breathing of a tranquil Kaoru…

She shifts again in her sleep, rolling on her stomach, the motion making the blanket curl and pool around her waist. With a quiet hitch of his breath, Kenshin's heart stops, for on Kaoru's back, from right shoulder to left hip, is a long deep gash.

The sides of the sword wound are smooth and flawless, the skin having parted easily like butter cut by a knife. The layers of tissue are cleanly cut bloody walls with bits of spines embedded in them, bones and marrow and nerves twisted together into a disgusting mess. The wound oozes blood and pus, the sickly liquid bubbling around the opened veins and arteries.

Kenshin's heart leaps in his throat and stays there as he eyes the mess in shock: he had mutilated bodies beyond recognition during the war, but that such a mangled wound belonged to Kaoru―

Just like he had cut down Tomoe―

In shock, Kenshin's fingers shake as ice floods his veins. He presses his forehead into Kaoru's shoulder, fingers bunched in her kimono and twisted around her ponytail to anchor himself to sanity.

 _It's a nightmare_ , he repeats in his head desperately ignoring the pressure behind his eyes and his heart lodged in his throat. He chokes down a sob, but two hot tears slip and sear twin thin trails onto his cheeks, and he sobs once, whispering quietly,

"Not you too, _Kaoru_."

* * *

 _A/N: If anyone wonders, first nightmare = after the Akabeko was hit. Second nightmare = after the attack on Chief Uramura/Maekawa dojo. Third nightmare = after meeting Enishi on the bridge._

 _To CodenameSailorE: yup! I remember Kenshin saying, just before the whole Shishio arc, that he had dreamed of the Shinsengumi and that it had been quite a while since he had last dreamed of the past. So I thought to use foreshadowing dreams again, but this time with the Jinchuu arc setting. So of course, he dreams of losing Kaoru just as he lost Tomoe, kinda to foreshadow what happens to her during Jinchuu :P_

 _(Thank you all for the reviews until now, it does mean a lot to me :3 Sorry for the slight delay in update and Happy New Year!)_


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